


Take Our Time 'Cause It Feels Like We're Dying

by Kalcifer



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Hanahaki Disease, Other, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21701683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalcifer/pseuds/Kalcifer
Summary: When Cass coughed up the first flower petal, all they could do was stare at it in disbelief.
Relationships: Cassander Timaeus Berenice/Mako Trig
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how this happened. I went from being confused about hanahaki aus to figuring out how to make them work for me to writing a cassmako version in like five minutes. As you might expect, this is very cheesy.
> 
> I'm hoping to update F&M next week, but it's the end of the semester and I suddenly have actual work to do, so this may be nothing more than an idle fantasy.

When Cass coughed up the first flower petal, all they could do was stare at it in disbelief. They’d heard of hanahaki, of course. They were a doctor, and while the military hadn’t been concerned about soldiers falling in love in the middle of a war, the disease had been bizarre enough to stick in their memory. It would have sounded like a hoax if it wasn’t so well-documented.

It was precisely because Cass knew what hanahaki was that they were confused. They knew its cause, and they knew equally well that they’d never been in love before. They weren’t sure if they’d even had crushes, or if they’d been slapping the label onto more straightforward desires for friendship. It wasn’t like they’d had many opportunities for either.

If they had had crushes, they definitely had one on Mako. They stared at him out of the corners of their vision. They caught themself making excuses to spend time with him, and had to fight down smiles every time they succeeded. They replayed interactions with him just to remind themself how infectious his goofy grin was.

As far as they could tell, all of that added up to a crush. Or, they thought , staring at the slimy petal on their bedroom floor, to love.

It was an exciting prospect. Love was lasting, something that could have a future. Love meant they could keep reveling in Mako’s company for as long as he’d let them. The thought filled them with warmth.

Something scratched at the inside of their chest. They coughed again, more insistently, and the petal on the floor was joined by two more.

Right, being in love had also given them a possibly fatal disease. That part wasn’t great.

The sensible thing to do would have been to get the surgery right then. There was no point in letting it progress any further. Doing so would mean giving up their feelings for Mako, though, and they weren’t willing to do that. They liked the fondness that flooded them when he said something ridiculous, the quiet contentment of sharing space with him.

They’d only just confirmed that these feelings meant something. They weren’t going to give that up for some weird quirk of biology.

It would be fine. Like they’d pointed out, they were a doctor. They could track the progression of the disease through their own body, and when it started threatening their life, they’d get the surgery and things would go back to normal. It wasn’t the healthy thing to do, but neither was reading tabloids about themself, and they did that all the time.

In the meantime, they could try to run damage control. The most sensible thing to do would have been to spend less time with Mako, try to slow the growth of the flowers in their lungs so they could savor being in love as long as possible, but that defeated the point of the original dumb decision they were making. They would try not to team up with Mako on jobs so they wouldn’t be paralyzed by a coughing fit at an inconvenient time, but that was the most they were willing to do.

The real important thing would be finding a way to dispose of the petals discreetly. The last thing they needed was for their friends to catch on.

They had this. They would be careful, they would keep their disease under wraps, it would be fine.

Maybe they shouldn’t have been the team’s chief strategist, though, because in making their plan they’d failed to account for the fact that none of the people they lived with had any sense of boundaries. AuDy caught them in a coughing fit less than a week later. Cass had retreated into their room, but unfortunately having plants fill your lungs made it harder to think of mundane things like locking your door.

“Are you sick?” AuDy asked.

“I’m fine,” Cass wheezed. They could feel petals on their tongue, and hoped AuDy didn’t notice. “What’s up?”

“Nothing that will be relevant to you right now.” AuDy took another step into the room. “The last time you were sick, you refused to admit it until you sneezed in the Megalophile and nearly shot the _Kingdom Come_ out of the sky. If you intend to do so again, I will have to inform Aria and Mako.”

“No!” The thought set Cass coughing again. They could only watch, eyes watering, as the petals flew from their mouth.

AuDy bent to pick one up. Their motors whirred in what Cass was reasonably sure was AuDy’s equivalent of a thoughtful hum. They left the room without saying another word.

Cass stared balefully at their open door. There was no point in locking it now, as AuDy wouldn’t have any qualms about kicking it down. They’d probably make Cass pay for a replacement, too. Cass closed it anyway, an act of petty defiance.

All they could do now was wait. Maybe death would find them before their friends did.

* * *

AuDy calling for him was rarely a good sign, but Mako knew that if he tried to ignore them, they would track him down and carry him wherever they wanted him. Going willingly was easier for them both.

Besides, they were also calling for Aria, so he could always blame her for whatever had gone wrong this time. It might even have been her fault.

He wandered into the living room to find Aria and AuDy already waiting. The look in Aria’s eye suggested she was already prepared to pin everything on Mako. It was a good thing he was well-versed in looking shocked and offended by accusations of wrongdoing.

Then AuDy spoke and killed the fierce rivalry that had been brewing. “Something is wrong with Cass.” They held up a shred of something white. “They appear to be eating flowers and coughing.”

Aria paled. “Do you think they have hanahaki?”

“Hanahaki, right, yeah…” Mako wracked his brain without success. “What’s hanahaki?”

“It’s a disease where flowers grow in your lungs as a result of unrequited love. No one knows what makes people susceptible to it, since obviously not everyone who falls in love gets it. I’ve heard some weird theories.” She drummed her fingers against her arm. “It shows up in a lot of EarthHome dramas, but it’s always seemed more unpleasant than romantic to me.”

Mako tried not to imagine the sensation of something clawing at the inside of his lungs. He wasn’t very successful. “Holy shit. Still, though, it’s not like Cass could have it, right? Who would they even be in love with? They have like one friend who isn’t us.”

Aria hummed noncommittally. “I think we need to talk to them about it.”

“Please do,” AuDy said. “I have no interest in having this conversation, but someone ought to.”

They followed Aria and Mako back to Cass’ room anyway. After some pointed gesturing, Aria gave in and knocked on the door. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” Cass called.

“So you don’t have hanahaki?” Mako asked.

There came the sounds of a muffled cough, followed by heavy footsteps. The door swung open. Cass looked a little tired, sure, but not devastated the way Mako would expect if they had literal plants growing in their lungs, what the fuck.

They shot AuDy and accusatory look. AuDy, predictably, didn’t react.

“Oh, Cass,” Aria said, her voice full of sympathy.

Cass shook their head “Seriously, guys, I’m fine. I’ve got it under control.”

“Really? Because having flowers in your lungs doesn’t sound fine to me,” Mako said.

“It’s still in the early stages, I can barely feel them.” Cass sighed. “Listen. I’m monitoring the situation, and I should be able to get the surgery before it gets serious.”

Aria looked sad at that, which was weird, since it sounded like they talking about a cure. Mako decided to worry about that later. He had other, very important concerns. “Who is it, anyway? Please tell me it’s not Paisley.”

“It’s definitely not Paisley,” Cass said, a faint smile on their face.

“Thank God. One of us needs to be able to negotiate with him.” Mako had finally come to his senses and realized that Paisley was a jerk a while back, but that didn’t change the fact that he was incredibly handsome and Mako was weak.

“Hey,” Aria said.

“Watching Paisley pretend he’s not flirting with you is a waste of all our time,” AuDy said.

“You see?” Mako pointed at AuDy dramatically. “And I can admit that, while I am incredibly charming in most scenarios, I said some questionable things to him in the past. Just a few”

Cass exhaled sharply. It could have been a laugh if the motion didn’t expel a few petals from their throat.

Mako froze. “Right,” he said, trying to keep the momentum of his mock rant. “Anyway. Now that that’s cleared up, we should probably leave you to it.”

“Let us know if you need anything,” Aria added.

“Get well soon,” AuDy said. “We will not be nearly as effective until you do.”

Cass huffed again, this time thankfully free of flowers. “Thanks, AuDy, that’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Yes. I am thinking of our budget.” At that, AuDy walked out, effectively drawing that line of conversation to a close.

Mako could respect that. He’d already made one graceless attempt at escape, and now he needed to think of another. “Do you know what kind of flowers they are?” he asked, then wished he hadn’t. He was curious, sure, but that was the opposite of leaving.

Cass made a face. “I’m not an expert on flowers, and I haven’t been in a hurry to research the things that are trying to kill me. I know how to get rid of them, and that’s what matters.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair.” Mako said. “Anyway. Try not to die on us, I guess.”

“I’ll do my best,” Cass said. They paused, and it looked like maybe they wanted to say something else, but maybe they were gearing up to cough up some more petals.

Mako practically sprinted away before they could do either. He didn’t think he could stand another reminder that Cass might be dying over some stupid crush.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass makes pasta, a new acquaintance, and a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that having Cass use a fake name and/or a disguise is out of character. Please accept it in the name of not devoting a chapter to them hiding from the press for a week.

All Mako wanted to do was forget about Cass’ stupid melodrama disease. Naturally, that meant he found himself researching it late into the night. It was hard to find more information than Aria had given him. Unrequited love, flower lungs, general unpleasantness. Some people thought the specific flowers you coughed up were significant, but between the number of flower species in the sector and the different meanings attached to them on any given planet, good luck figuring out what the weird magic virus was trying to tell you.

The most useful information he found was on MeshMD, which talked about the cure. There were two options. One was to find out it wasn’t actually unrequited, at which point the flowers would instantly wither and get reabsorbed back into your lungs over the course of the next few days. It sounded like fairytale bullshit, but so did everything else about hanahaki, so Mako was inclined to roll his eyes and accept it.

Then there was the second option, which sounded almost scientific until you heard about the side effects. There was a surgery to take the flowers out of your lungs and make sure no more grew. It was quick and fairly painless, especially when your point of reference was plants scratching at your insides. There was just one drawback. Removing the flowers removed the feelings, and possibly the capacity for love at all.

That last point was frustratingly vague. The most Mako could find about it was people freaking out right after the surgery, and who knew how literal they were being. Once again, though, everything else about the disease was unnecessary and cruel, so Mako could buy it.

He scrolled through a few more sites, but while he did find a passionate debate about the realism of the last big hanahaki drama between people who’d clearly gotten their information from other EarthHome dramas, he didn’t find anything useful.

Then again, none of this information was really useful to Mako, because it was none of his business. Cass was a doctor. They could decide how to deal with the stupid flowers on their own.

He closed out of all his research tabs, saving the forum argument to laugh at some other day, and went to play dumb games on the Mesh until his eyes burned.

That was a short term solution, though. It didn’t fix the way Mako was hyperaware of each time Cass coughed, the way they froze mid-movement as if suddenly in pain. They always looked so guilty about it, too, like they expected him to blame them for getting sick. Mako hated seeing it.

He still found himself hanging around in the kitchen as Cass prepared what totally wasn’t a family dinner, as all four of them would loudly maintain. “Pass me the salt?” Cass asked.

Mako grabbed the canister and pushed it across the counter. “I’m trusting you with it this time, but if you’re making that salty pasta again I’ll have to confiscate it.”

“Yeah, with all that instant ramen you eat, I can tell you hate noodles and salt.” Cass rolled their eyes, then turned to cough into their elbow. Mako could see a few petals escape and flutter to the floor.

He looked away, trying to hide his discomfort. He never knew what to do with himself during Cass’ fits. He wanted to help, but there wasn’t much he could do when the thing attacking them was their own body.

He handled this doubt the way he handled most other emotions: making a joke about its source. “Are you sure you don’t need a face mask? I don’t want to eat your germy flowers.”

“They’re not contagious, you know,” Cass said with an ironic half-smile.

Mako felt like he was missing something there. Did they think he was in love with someone? This would be a mean way to bring it up, though, even for Cass. “It’s still gross,” he said lamely.

“I’ll be careful. It’s not like they’re that bad yet, it should be okay.” They punctuated this with another pointed cough into their elbow. “You see? Totally fine.”

Mako really didn’t like that “yet”. Time to change the subject as naturally as possible. “Hey, you’re technically a doctor. Do you have any idea what sort of thing causes this? Like, why do some people turn out to be allergic to romance and not others?” Fuck. This was what he got for doing all that research. He forgot how to talk about anything else.

Cass opened their mouth, closed it again, and shot Mako a look. “Okay, hold on. First of all, what do you mean ‘technically’?”

“I’m just saying, you do a lot of things, you can’t be good at all of them. There’s no shame in admitting you’ve let some of them slip.” Mostly it was hard to think of them as a doctor when they were this bad at taking care of themself, but he was willing to lean into the bit.

“Hey, I’ve kept you and Aria alive up until now. I think I deserve an award for that.”

“Maybe for now, but one day you’re going to feed us too much salty pasta and we’re all going to die of high blood pressure.” Riling Cass up was a familiar pastime, one that was easy to fall back into the rhythm of. He could almost ignore the occasional flower petal that accompanied their sputtering.

* * *

Cass took a sip of their wine to cover another scan of the room. The guards were still at their posts, so presumably the rest of the team hadn’t screwed up too badly. They hadn’t heard anything over the comms, but they had no illusions about the chances anyone would think to get in touch with them before something was on fire.

They hated having to wait like this. As the person making the plans, they normally considered it their prerogative to avoid any task that would make them do it, but with their current reduced lung capacity, staying away from the action seemed like the safest bet. Besides, their target thought very highly of himself, and Cass had the most experience blending in at these overly formal events.

Speaking of their target, the man himself was heading Cass’ way. They lowered their glass to give a polite smile. “Chevrolet, it’s so nice to get a chance to speak to you. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“Oh, please, there’s no need for flattery.” Chevrolet waved a hand dismissively, though his expression suggested a definite need for flattery on his part. “We should never stop growing, as artists or as people, that’s what I always say. Now, who might you be, and what brings you here on such a lovely evening?”

“I’m Eurybia, and I’m actually exhibiting a piece myself. It’s nothing special,” ordered off a woman Aria knew who mostly did forgeries, “but I’m proud of it.”

“Oh? Which piece?” The layer of polite distance in his voice couldn’t quite mask his disdain. He was probably just asking so he could prove to himself how much better he was at art. Cass was so glad they’d be leaking his shady deals with the gallery.

“It’s the _Meandering Path_.” They pointed over Chevrolet’s shoulder at a painting of the trail of a ship, stark against the sky.

“I see.” The contempt was stronger now. “And how did you get the idea for such a charming little piece?”

Cass had rehearsed this one ahead of time, which was good, because they were terrible at art interpretation. Give them a straightforward bullet wound any day. “I wanted to express how there are no real shortcuts in life, and how the only way to find meaning is to go through the pain. You have to take the long way around.” It had taken them hours to be able to get through all that without making a face. Sure, it was nice to believe that your suffering was getting you somewhere, but things weren’t ever that simple. Mostly you just hurt, and then you moved on.

Chevrolet, of course, ate it up. “Of course,” he said, turning back to look at the painting. “So the ship’s small size against the sky is reflective of the individual’s inability to account for all the factors at play in their life?”

“Sure.”

“Who would have thought…” Chevrolet whirled back around to face Cass. “How did you get that delicate effect on the trail? It almost seems to shimmer off the canvas.”

Ah. Rehearsing the meaning speech so many times hadn’t exactly given them time to ask about the technical details. They shrugged. “The normal way, I guess.”

“You’re exhibiting with me, it’s hardly the time to be modest.” Chevrolet stepped closer, bringing him right into Cass’ personal space. “I’m just dying to know how you accomplished it.”

Cass sucked in a breath. They were trying to think of a good way to deflect when someone came up beside them, closer even than Chevrolet. They were prepared to be annoyed until they recognized the blue tint to the newcomer’s skin.

“You’re Eurybia, right?” Mako’s eyes were wide enough to distract from the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’m so honored to meet you! You’re, like, my favorite artist of all time.”

“Really?” Cass tried to play along, which meant doing their best to ignore that Mako had been wrangled into a very nice suit for the job. They could taste perfume when they swallowed. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“I mean, most of the time art feels so self-centered, and pretentious,” Mako’s gaze darted towards Chevrolet, “but yours isn’t like that at all. It’s like you really get me.” He fluttered his eyelashes exaggeratedly.

Could he lay it on any thicker? Cass had to fight down a laugh, but that only made affection swell in their chest, bringing the flowers with it. They could feel the vines climbing up their throat, stronger than ever, and barely managed to choke out, “Excuse me,” around them. A few stray petals forced their way out with the words.

Racing for the bathroom would have been excruciating even without the stabs of pain that accompanied every step. They barely managed to lock the door behind them before they were crouched over the toilet, hacking up petals and stems and fully-formed flowers that tore at their lungs and throat as they were forced out. Why had they let it get this bad?

They thought back to Mako’s expression, the warmth and barely-concealed amusement as he looked at them, and smiled even as a fresh cough shuddered through them. Right. Even now, they weren’t ready to give that up. They could ride this fit out like they had all the others, and then they’d move on.

After expelling what felt like three times their lung capacity of plant matter, they could finally breathe without choking. They did what they could to make themself look presentable. It would be really embarrassing to let their feelings ruin a job for everyone. Who were they, Aria?

When they were as ready as they were going to get, they got two feet out of the bathroom and ran into Mako. He was leaning against the wall, but his casual posture did nothing to hide the concern written across his face. “Are you okay? That sounded pretty bad.”

“I mean, it wasn’t great, but I’m fine now.” Cass shrugged. “If I had known this would make it so easy to get out of awkward conversations, I might have tried to catch it much sooner.”

“You really need to learn how to walk away from a conversation. I promise you don’t need to be literally dying to do it.” Mako stuck his hands in his pockets. “You looked like you were having trouble, so I figured I’d come bail you out. I, uh, didn’t realize it was that kind of trouble.”

Cass fought down a laugh. This conversation was awkward enough without throwing that particular emotional grenade into the mix. Besides, Mako had helped them out, even if the method sucked. “Does this mean you all are clear?” they asked instead.

“Yeah, it turns out this place had like no security. I think AuDy only had to shoot one dude.”

That was not the reassurance Mako thought it was. “Am I going to have to do emergency surgery? Because this is a nice jacket, and I’d hate to ruin it.”

“Not unless they really fucked up getting back to the ship.”

“Oh, see, now you jinxed it.” Cass was prepared to offer ways they could have gotten mortally wounded between here and the spaceport, but a rustling inside their chest told them they needed to cut this conversation short. “We better go check on them before something explodes.”

Mako pushed away from the wall, but rather than head for the exit, he stopped right in front of Cass. His hand brushed past their cheek. They swallowed, trying to force down the vine that had crawled up their throat with impossible speed.

And then Mako stepped back, looking faintly abashed. It was a strange expression on him. “Sorry. Your,” he gestured at the side of his face, “projector thing wasn’t on. The last thing we need right now is more headlines about suspicious scions.”

Cass had forgotten they had a hologram projector, despite being the one who’d insisted on having a disguise in the first place. Their coughing fit must have taken more out of them than they’d thought. “Right. Thanks.”

Mako didn’t meet their eyes. “Anyway, like you said, we should probably get back to the others.” He set off in a hurry. Cass had to rush to catch up, something their still-raw throat protested.

The ship had not exploded and no one had been shot, which was pretty much the most they could ask for. With that confirmed, they went to take a long shower. The steam would soothe their throat, and it would give them time to thoroughly compartmentalize whatever that had been.

(They got a call back from the gallery the next day saying someone had offered to buy the _Meandering Path_ for an absurd amount of money. Some concerted searching by the three of them turned up headline after headline about the mysterious artist who was so passionate about their work they were dying for it. It was the sort of tragedy everyone loved, sensational enough not to feel real.

AuDy pointed out that this was their chance to make a lot of money while people cared more about the story than the art itself. Fortunately, Aria’s rant about how art was supposed to be more than a grab for attention was enough to take that back off the table, even if it took hours of Cass’ life with it. They would have felt way too weird about being rewarded for their selfishness.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass orders coffee. They don't get a chance to drink it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cass when someone asks them about hanahaki: 

The leadup to Cass’ demise was deceptively mundane. They were watching TV when Mako leaned in from the doorway and asked if they wanted anything from Constellation. As it happened, they could go for a matcha latte, so they said as much.

“Great,” Mako said. “Let’s go.”

Cass frowned. “Isn’t the whole point of asking that you were going anyway and could save me the trip?”

“Aria wants a drink too, though.” Mako held up his hands, flexing his fingers as if demonstrating a point. “I need someone to help me carry everything.”

“Get a drink holder.” Cass pressed their back further into the couch to prove that they were already comfortable and not going to be swayed by Mako’s terrible logic.

“But it will be unbalanced with only three drinks. It’s so much easier if you carry one.”

“Easier for you, maybe.”

“Exactly!” Mako grinned, and Cass, who was apparently the weakest person alive, caved. There was more back and forth, of course, Cass trying to convince themself as well as Mako that they had more integrity than that, but that was the moment they knew they were doomed.

Their sense of foreboding deepened when they got down to the hangar and realized Mako intended to take the Ring of Saturn. “Come on,” they said. “Weren’t you just complaining about how hard it would be to carry the drinks? You take a turn too hard on that thing and we’re both wearing our coffee instead of holding it.”

Mako ignored them to pull the board down from its shelf. “Don’t worry so much. I know how to keep it stable.”

“And you’re going to do that, and not try any dumb tricks?”

“Not on the way back, obviously.”

Cass squinted at him, trying to judge how sincere he was being. They’d really like to get out of this conversation without admitting that they could barely balance on the stupid thing. Conveniently, trying to stare at Mako’s face for too long made them choke on flowers, which was a very effective way to redirect the conversation.

“...Fine, I won’t do anything that might make it harder for you to breathe.” Mako didn’t meet Cass’ eyes.

“Thanks,” they said dryly. It was easier to focus on banter than think about the fact they’d basically weaponized their feelings, even in such a roundabout way. What a great way to treat the person they claimed to be in love with.

True to his word, Mako kept the flight slow and steady, so even Cass had no trouble keeping their balance. This lack of distraction had the totally value-neutral side effect of enabling Mako to keep a running commentary on every dog, interesting piece of graffiti, and ridiculous advertisement they passed. Cass made vaguely agreeable noises and fought down each new wave of petals that rose up whenever Mako made a particularly bad joke.

They arrived at a building identical to every other Constellation Cafe that had ever existed, something that could have been reassuring if you didn’t think about it too hard. The shop wasn’t crowded, so it didn’t take long for Mako to get to the counter and recite his and Aria’s caffeine milkshake orders to the screen. He stepped aside to let Cass order their latte, at which point the display changed to one they hadn’t seen before.

“Oh, nice; they finally got latte art installed!” Mako leaned over the screen with interest.

“What’s the point of getting art when I’m going to put a lid on it right away?”

“I know this is a hard concept for you, but some people like to have fun,” Mako said. He made an exaggerated shooing motion. “Go look at the bulletin board or something while I handle this, since you’re clearly so above it.”

“I literally just asked a question.” They did as they were told anyway. Some things weren’t worth making a scene in a coffee shop over.

When Mako came to join them, he was holding a paper cup in both hands and looking very pleased with himself. Cass regarded him warily. “Hey?”

Mako’s response was to shove the cup at them, its contents sloshing dangerously. “Isn’t it beautiful? Don’t you regret doubting me now?”

“No, see, you’re only making me doubt you more.” Cass said, but they looked down at the latte being presented with a sigh that was only about ten percent non-theatrical. Drawn in the foam was a frowny face with, as far as Cass could tell, a tail. They looked back up at Mako, at a loss. “What is this?”

Mako practically beamed. “It’s you! I couldn’t make your doctor bag thing fit, but it’s got your braid and your grumpy face, so I think it still captures your essence.”

Cass examined their apparent likeness once again. Despite Mako’s description of them, they couldn’t fight the smile creeping onto their face. Objectively, this was the dumbest thing, but Mako was bouncing a little with excitement, and it was cute, and also the reason he was so happy was that he had done something for Cass. It was enough to make their chest feel tight with emotion.

They were definitely staring, though, and Mako was bound to notice. They tried to make some comment on how bad the art was, which was when they realized there was a more pressing reason their chest hurt, and also they could barely breathe. A distant part of their awareness told them they needed to get out of the open, but the vines clawing up their throat said there wasn’t time.

They barely managed to stagger to a chair before the fit set in. Petals and stems and entire flowers pushed their way into the open, with time only for the shallowest of breaths between them. The pile of white forming on the floor looked almost like snow, Cass noted dizzily. Then they started coming up stained red instead. The pressure was replaced by a raw, grating pain in their chest.

It didn’t so much stop as run out of steam, leaving lingering promises of more to come when Cass was least prepared for it. Assuming there was a way for them to be less prepared than they were this time. Their mouth tasted of blood and bitter growth.

When their breathing leveled out and they felt more like a person, they began sweeping the fallen flowers into a pile. Mako made a distressed noise from behind them. “What are you doing?”

He looked concerned and more than a little freaked out, which were reasonable reactions but not anything Cass wanted to deal with right then. As it turned out, being seriously ill was exhausting. “I’m not going to leave them here, that would be rude.” And maybe cleaning them up would let them regain some sense of control over a situation that was quickly spiraling, but that sounded bad even to Cass, so they weren’t going to say that part out loud.

“That’s—” Mako took a deep breath and tried again. “They definitely have robots to clean up. Also you were coughing up blood. Like lots of blood. You shouldn’t be doing anything right now.”

That wasn’t strictly true, Cass realized with a sinking feeling. What they should do was schedule the surgery, and soon, given how far the disease had apparently progressed. The thought managed to make them feel worse than the coughing had. As unpleasant as the flowery nightmare part of it had been, they really had been enjoying themself. They hadn’t known they could feel this warm, quiet happiness. They didn’t know if they were ever going to again.

“Fine,” they said, late enough that Mako was giving them another concerned look. “Let’s just go home.”

“Yeah.” Mako moved to support Cass, but they waved him away, ignoring the hurt that flashed across his face when they did. The last thing they needed was to trigger another fit.

They didn’t notice the trip back to the ship, too caught up in their own head. They tried to come up with an explanation of the situation that wouldn’t make them sound quite so stupid. They were going to get a lecture from Koda either way, but it was worth a shot.

It wasn’t until they were safely shut up in their room that they realized they’d forgotten to grab their latte.

* * *

Mako paced up and down one of the lesser-used corridors of the _Kingdom Come_. The afternoon had been bad; there weren’t any better words for “my friend nearly choked to death on weird magic love flowers in the middle of what had been a perfectly nice outing.” He was perfectly justified in being mad. The last thing he wanted was for Aria to try to cheer him up.

Like, he got it. Cass was an adult. If they didn’t want to get surgery because they were afraid of the side effects or something, whatever. It was their lungs on the line. What annoyed him was the bullshit nature of the disease. They had to feel bad about being in love with someone who didn’t love them back already. Making them experience physical pain and general nastiness over it felt like overkill.

And besides, who was good enough for them to go around barfing up flowers for in the first place? He couldn’t remember them mentioning anyone they were interested in, but then they barely talked about their feelings to begin with. They probably thought the whole concept of love was embarrassing and unnecessary.

Whoever they were in love with couldn’t have been that impressive anyway if they couldn’t see how great Cass was. For one thing, Cass was unfairly hot. Mako didn’t know how anyone could miss that. They had the kind of face that would make you stop mid-Wikipedia-binge and go “that must be Photoshopped,” and then years later you met them and they looked like that in reality too and you had to make peace with the unfairness of the universe.

More importantly, though, they were nice to be around. They were smart, and their sense of humor was so dry that sometimes you had to watch the way their eyes crinkled to realize they’d made a joke at all. And their presence made you feel safer. Sure, you’d probably still get shot at when you were with them, but then they’d come up with some out-there plan you could never have dreamed of that got you out of danger and one step closer to your goal. You wouldn’t even mind the getting-shot-at thing because you knew you could trust them.

...And this train of thought was going some weird places. Mako was supposed to be angry, not start making a bulleted list of reasons to be in love with Cass. The list was way too easy to come up with, too.

He froze, one foot still hovering in the air. This was ridiculous. He would have noticed something like this, right? Had his “oh” moment and felt the world reshape itself around him to accommodate such a massive revelation? There was no way it should be this simple, this ordinary.

He had to talk to someone about this. He was going to explode if he kept dwelling on it without doing anything.

He made his way back to the main area of the ship mostly on autopilot, his focus still on trying to figure out how he could have missed something so important. His lack of attention was the only explanation for what he did next: he slammed open the door to Cass’ room and blurted out, “I’m in love with you.”

Cass took off their headphones, brow furrowed. “What?”

It was much harder to say with Cass looking at him like that, or with Mako fully aware of what he was doing, for that matter. He was committed now, though, and honestly a second opinion would be really helpful. “I think I’m in love with you.”

“What the fuck,” Cass whispered. They didn’t get any farther before they began coughing up a frankly ridiculous number of flower petals. Just what Mako wanted to do twice in a row.

He shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He still hated to see Cass in pain like this, but knowing that it was because of unrequited love was even worse. He’d probably even caused this one, now that he thought about it. He’d brought up love out of nowhere and reminded them of their own problems. There wasn’t any blood this time, but that wasn’t much of a comfort.

He was preparing to make his escape and deal with the fallout another day when Cass finally spat out a single perfect flower. They straightened and breathed deeply, then again, looking a little surprised. Finally they turned back to Mako. “No, seriously, what?” Their voice was stronger than it had been in weeks.

Mako pointed at the flower sitting innocently on their comforter, way too pretty for the pain it had caused them. “Wait, no, you don’t get to gloss over that. It’s new and I don’t trust it.”

For a split second, Cass had a look of horrified realization before they covered their face with their hand. “You know how this all happens because you’re in love with someone?” They didn’t wait for Mako to respond. “It was you.”

Mako tried to process that one. It made even less sense than his own feelings. “No way. Why wouldn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know, it would have been weird. We already work together and live together, so if you weren’t interested everything would get unbelievably awkward.” They smiled wryly. “You know, kind of like it is now.”

“So, what, you were willing to die rather than have an awkward conversation?”

“I wasn’t going to die, I was going to get the surgery before it got that bad.” They glanced down at their tablet and sighed. “I’ve already messaged Koda, too… they’ll never let me live this down.”

“You deserve it.” Mako would have been happy to keep making fun of Cass, but that was when his brain caught up from where he’d apparently left it in that hallway. “So, wait, just to be clear. You had hanahaki over me. So you’re in love with me.”

Cass groaned. “You’re really testing that right now, but yes.”

“Hold on, I’m going somewhere with this.” Mako stared Cass down until it was clear they weren’t going to interrupt. Then he stared a little longer because they looked relaxed and content and it was distracting. “Because I did extensive research and if it went away like it looks like, that means I’m in love with you too.”

“I... guess so.”

“So!” Mako pointed dramatically, then realized he hadn’t planned out where he was going with this. “Do you want to, like, go out sometime?”

Cass blinked. Maybe they hadn’t known where he was going with this either. They were already so in sync. “Sure. Yeah. That would be great.”

“Cool.” Mako gave it half a second of consideration before jumping up on the bed to sit next to Cass, making sure to avoid the pile of gross lung flowers. He was so glad they wouldn’t have to deal with those anymore, both for the grossness and for the more pressing terminal illness thing. Cass wasn’t dying anymore, and it was because he was in love with them. Mako had saved their life, basically.

He felt Cass tense up beside him before carefully relaxing to lean on his shoulder. What a dork. “And now that the big stuff is out of the way, tell me more about how you’ve apparently been in love with me for months.”

Cass rolled their eyes. “You’re terrible.”

“Really? Because I have it on good authority that _someone_ thinks that I’m amazing and talented and handsome and is 100% in love with me.”

“Sounds like they have awful taste, then,” Cass said blandly. They looked away, as if that would hide the clear affection in their voice when they added, “But you’re not wrong.”

Well. Mako had not expected that one to work. He wasn’t complaining, though. This was much better than anything he would have expected from today.


End file.
